


A Love like This (Won't Last Forever)

by ladygriffyndor



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bellamy Blake is a History & Mythology Nerd, F/M, Immortality, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26859163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladygriffyndor/pseuds/ladygriffyndor
Summary: Clarke Griffin is one of the last original immortals left. She has roamed the earth for millennia successfully avoiding her soulmate. She doesn't want to meet her soulmate, thank you very much. Why give up eternal life just to age with a specific person? In the end, it doesn't matter much, because when she first meets her soulmate Bellamy Blake, he is already dying.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Monty Green/Nathan Miller
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time, there was a tumblr post about a soulmates au in which people were immortal until they found their soulmate. Add some greek mythology and here we are. This sat on my hard drive for many years but seeing that Bellamy was disrespected on the final season I am crawling out of my fanfiction hiatus.

“In Plato’s Symposium, Aristophanes described the origins of human nature and its condition. He said there were originally three genders: male, female, and a third gender that was a combination of both. Aristophanes also claimed that human beings were round, with four arms, four legs, and two entirely functional heads.” Professor Blake smiled gently, pausing so that his students could take in what he had just said, and providing them with the opportunity to laugh about it for a moment. Once the chuckles in the classroom quieted down, he continued his lecture. Bellamy Blake jumped on top of his desk, sitting down casually and running a hand through his mess of a hair. “Despite what we might think now,” he mocked. “These beings were too perfect. The spherical figure symbolized their immortality, and signaled they were the offspring of the Earth, the Sun, and the Moon; thus they inherited their terrible strength and force, and soon found themselves conspiring against the gods.

“Zeus and other deities conferred, desperate to find a solution to their problem. They couldn’t just wipe off humanity, for they needed the humans’ devotion and sacrifices to survive. After a lot of deliberation, Zeus decided to simply slice the perfect beings in half. He gave orders to Apollo, who obligingly turned the human beings’ heads so that they could be witnesses of their own division. Apollo was also in charge of healing the wounds so that humans continued to be functional.”

Professor Blake allowed himself a pleased smile as his students squirmed, shocked by the graphic twist his lecture had taken. He loved teaching, he loved witnessing the changes on his students’ faces as they acquired valuable knowledge. Entertaining the solemn silence that had fallen in the classroom, Bellamy looked around, trying to read the faces in the room. Everyone seemed fascinated by the story, eager to know what happened next. Everyone except a young woman sitting at the back row, her face was unreadable. Bellamy had seen her multiple times, but never in his classroom.

Trying hard to hide his shock, he tore his eyes from Clarke Griffin and continued his speech, suddenly too conscious of every one of his words. “Now, the story goes that human beings were consumed with the search for their other half, which then distracted them from whatever previous plans they had against the gods. The _coup de grâce_ of Zeus’ plan?” He made a dramatic pause, letting his eyes fall on hers for just a second before reassuming professionalism. “He appeared to be merciful, by giving human beings the possibility to reproduce now that they were separate beings, but he also took away their immortality. The second a human being was reunited with their other half, their hearts would become mortal, and so they would reproduce, age together, and eventually die.

“Aristophane’s speech can be used to explain a lot of things about human nature. Sexuality, for example, as the male or female original human beings could have a soulmate of the same gender. Actually, back then it was believed that homosexual males were superior to all other individuals, because of their pursuit of the masculine. Regardless of their superiority, custom and law compelled males to marry females anyway. Go figure,” he joked, the classroom roared with laughter. It might have been a trick of lighting, but he could have sworn even she cracked a smile.

“So, during this fall break, I would like you to read Plato’s Symposium and write a short paper on whatever you found most interesting about it. You can talk about the role of homosexuality, the role of women, the many dichotomies in the text, or how this myth has influenced our present perceptions of love. For example, it is believed that Apollo lovingly sewed the humans’ wounds at their stomach,” he pressed his stomach with his finger. “That’s why we have a navel. Now, call me a hopeless romantic, but I am particularly fond of how Apollo, god of the Sun and therefore almost a parent to humanity, felt so guilty about causing the humans pain that he kissed their finger as an apology. The god’s kiss left a mark around the fourth finger of the left hand, and that is why engagement rings are worn there.”

He had raised his left hand, wiggling his finger in demonstration. Taking advantage of his new posture, Bellamy took a breath and glanced at the watch on his wrist, it was ten minutes before the class ended, but he debated letting everyone go out early. As if searching for an answer, his eyes lifted without his permission, looking for her, but she wasn’t returning his gaze.

“Anyway, the corny hour is over. You can find the full assignment requirements on the class portal, and I will email them to you tonight. Feel free to stay and talk to me after class about this assignment, or stop by my office hours before the break. I’m available through email too if you want me t––” Confused, Bellamy lost his train of thought as he watched the blonde make her way out of the classroom hastly, her left hand balled tightly into a fist.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Bellamy meet for the first time in 1864. Clarke is not ready to give up her immortality.

Clarke didn’t believe in soulmates.

Or, at least, she didn’t believe they were a blessing. Clarke had been around for a very long time, which led her to realize that the gods’ offering –– a lifetime of happiness filled with unconditional love –– was not only nearly impossible to find, but also a curse in disguise. Over the years, she had witnessed the world change completely every other decade, but the shock of watching empires rise and fall was nothing compared with seeing her friends walk willingly into the uncertainty of death and mortality.

Evolution had soon realized that, in the best interest of human survival, soulmates were not the most viable option. People stopped to age, women were unable to bear children, and the human race neared extinction; genetics made its magic work, and this lead to more and more human beings to be born without a soulmate mark. They were free to roam the earth and age naturally, they procreated effortlessly and soon the myth of the soulmates became nothing but an old legend. A few of the original soulmates roamed the earth still, too. Either because they had failed to meet their soulmates despite of all of the paths that could have been crossed, or because they had fallen in love with immortality, and slaying throats didn’t seem like a grand price to pay.

In the beginning Clarke had been looking forward to finding her soulmate, just like everyone else, but they just never turned up. She made friends and travelled the world. But the more she learned the more she wondered if she would be willing to give up her immortality. Mostly she spent centuries pondering whether she was strong enough to do what it took to live forever. Not that she believed everyone was bound to find their soulmate, anyway. A perfect match that would make her existence worthwhile? She doubted such a thing existed, but on the slim chances that it existed indeed, and she were to find them one day. Would it be easy to get rid of them in order to continue to enjoy her immortal life?

For better or for worse, the gods had always been known for having a wicked sense of humor, and in the end she didn’t have to worry about it. Because when she first met Bellamy Blake, he was already dying.

* * *

His freckled cheeks were covered by blood and his sweaty curls stuck to his forehead as they wheeled him in. Clarke stood in front of rows and rows of once white, now blood covered cots. Every time she blinked a new soldier was wheeled through the door, in an even worse condition than the last. And so, on her five thousandth birthday, Clarke Griffin met Bellamy Blake, her soulmate.

It had been her parents who had told her about that day, about the moment in which her eyes would lock with theirs and within a few hours the aging process would begin. They told her about the way her heart would skip a beat as it tried to get used to being mortal. It was not a moment she had been looking forward to, at all. But even with all of her parents talks about the day they had met each other, nothing would have prepared her for what was to come.

The world went quiet, her eyes glued to his glassy brown ones. Clarke was vaguely aware of the rushing nurses, desperately running from one place to another, trying to save as many lives as possible. The war had taken so many lives, and deep down she knew that it would take many more.  _ But not him,  _ a voice inside of her begged. He broke eye contact suddenly, slamming his eyes shut as his face contracted in pain. One heartbeat later, the world returned to its usual noisy and fast-paced self.

Until then, Clarke had tried to remain as far from politics and history as she could. But the need for medical aid was great, and she knew that she couldn’t look away this time. For a year now she had been volunteering as a nurse, day after day her hands repeated the same actions –– check pulse, stop bleeding, re-start heart, close eyelids. Of course, the one time she decides to get involved in mortal affairs her soulmate is delivered in a bloody platter.

Clarke rushed to his side, her hands moving without her brain giving an order.

The man in the stretcher, her soulmate, moaned in pain and her heart shrunk in her chest. Her hands continued to do a check up, and then she finally removed the bandages from his stomach. Anyone, even without her many years of medical experience, would have been able to tell that his was a fatal wound. Usually, when Clarke realized there was nothing she could do, she would wheel them to the next room, where nuns and priests stumbled over themselves to help the soldiers go easy. The only people that she had seen die, had been those that gave up as she tried to save them.

“It’s bad, huh?” He choked out, his chest moving up and down quickly as he fought to catch his breath. “I tried to convince them to shoot me in the leg, but they don’t like being bossed around.”

Clarke let out one shaky laugh.  _ You are bleeding to death,  _ she wanted to tell him.  _ You are bleeding to death and you are making jokes to make  _ me  _ feel better? _

“What’s your name?” She asked despite her better judgment.

“Cadet Blake,” he let out, his breathing increasingly more erratic. “Bellamy Blake. And you, princess?” Clarke blinked, astonished. Not only was he making jokes, but he was openly flirting with her. “Sorry, too soon?” He joked with a groan. “I figured I’d give it a shot, I’ve got nothing to lose.”

“My name is Clarke,” she said after a moment. His face broke into a smile and she couldn’t help but to return it. “Nice to meet you, Bellamy.”

“Ah, you know what they say, Clarke. If it takes a war for us to meet, it would have been worth it.”

Clarke chuckled, her throat too tight for her to be able to utter any words. So she simply looked down at him, her eyes still on his. It took her a while to realize her hand had once again moved without her direction, and it was now holding his tightly.

“Can I ask you something, Clarke?”

It worried her, the way he said her name. For a fleeting moment, she was sure that he knew. No dying man would speak her name so carefully, embracing every syllable, wasting his breath; unless he knew what they were. Still, she saw no point in denying him his last wish. “Sure, anything.”

“I’m not going to make it, am I?” The question shocked her, and there was a moment of silence, Clarke hoped that the look in her eyes was enough for him to understand. It was. “My sister. Will she get any money for my death?”

Clarke knew many things, but she did not know the answer to that question. Still, she nodded effusively. Whatever was needed to make his death easier. Speaking of, with her free hand, Clarke reached for the cabinet that was in between Bellamy’s bed and the next stretcher. She pulled out a syringe of morphine, his eyes widened before they returned to their usual size.

“Fun fact, did you know morphine was named after the Greek god Morpheus,” he offered as she sank the needle in his arm. The effect was almost immediate, his muscles unclenched, but the grip on her hand remained. “Could I ask you something else?”

“You are full of questions, aren’t you?” Clarke breathed out, he smirked.

“You certainly look like you have all the answers,” he teased. “I was just wondering, if we hadn’t met like this… you know, bullet hole and all, would you have agreed to go out with me?”

Her heart skipped a beat, and then she could feel the cold creep onto her chest. Clarke could feel his death lurking closer. So she forced a smile onto her quivering lips and shook her head. “I don’t like smartasses,” she joked.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Bellamy returned, a content smile on his face as he took his last breath.

***

In the following days, much to her disgrace, Clarke learned a lot about Bellamy Blake. He was twenty-two the day he died, he was well liked among his fellow soldiers, his best friend Nathan Miller had been shot in the leg a couple of days before, they both had joined the army because they had no money. His only belongings consisted of a battered copy of the Iliad, a picture of his mother, a handful of letters from his sister, and a pack of gum.

Miller confirmed the address on the letters was still where his sister and mother lived, and so Clarke gave up her spot as a nurse and travelled North. She knocked on the door, and a child opened it, she couldn’t be a day over fourteen. By the look in her eyes, Clarke knew that she was expecting bad news. So she did what she had to do: she handed her her brother’s belongings along with a check for a large amount of money. The perks of living forever were great, and Clarke knew she had no use for that money, but Bellamy’s family did.

“He died bravely,” she offered as an explanation for the check.

“But did he die in vain?” his sister whimpered.

As Clarke walked away, the weight of the stolen copy of the Iliad on her bag heavier than it should have been, she reached the conclusion that she could not let him die in vain. Because that young girl had her brother taken from her unfairly. Because Bellamy deserved better than to be shot simply because his family needed money to eat.

For the first time in centuries, Clarke made sure her voice was heard. With years of experience, came the ability to recognize those whose names would be remembered in history. Clarke whispered on their ears, sent brilliant letters, made the right connections. Bellamy’s Union triumphed, slavery was finally abolished, and yet Clarke still wondered if she had accomplished her goal. 


End file.
